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I hear my father’s voice echoing silkily through my mind.He knows just how worthless ye are, boy.
My posture stiffens and I’m ready to take a swing at Constantine, even though he hasn’t said a fucking word to me yet. Eros steps beside me when I plant my feet and glare at him.
“Constantine.”
Constantine flits his gaze over my brothers, smirking. “If it isn’t the Lyon family. Tell me, what brings the second best arms dealers in the world to my doorstep?”
His accent smacks of the old South. It makes every word out of his mouth sound dirty and disingenuous.
Ares lunges forward with a snarl. “Ye know why we’re here, Constantine. Ye fucked with our deal in Turkmenistan. Now we’re going to fuck with ye.”
I lift a hand, which in itself is enough to restrain my brother. Constantine leans on the bar, picking up his tumbler of clear liquid.
“I guess putting the word out that someone was trying to bring guns into the Turkmeni port really did throw a wrench into your plans.” He sips his drink and looks like the cat that ate the canary. “I’d say sorry, but how can I apologize for something that worked exactly as I intended? The Russian separatists came running straight to me, by the way. I sorted them out nicely with an even bigger arms deal. So, thanks for playing into my plans so perfectly. Let me know when you have plans to do a big deal like that again.”
He laughs into his drink. I stare at him, completely cool on the outside. Inside though, I’m a seething morass of hatred.
“I thought ye might say that. So, I have had yer top five goons taken out of operations.” I cock my head to the side, giving him a calculating look. “Three Russians, one Jordanian, and one Saudi. It’s funny how willing people are to turn over the details on completely unlikable bastards.”
I catch the quickest glimpse of rage on Constantine's face before he catches it and covers his anger with a smooth mask. He glances behind him at two very attractive young women who are looking our way.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He shrugs. “I’m just a lobbyist, working to support the second amendment of the United States of America. I realize that you’re not from around these parts but let me tell you something. Anything that helps my government and hurts your business is just a cherry on top of my already overflowing sundae.”
I step closer, using my imposing height to loom over Constantine. “My next deal is going to be the biggest arms deal ever done. It’ll launch my family into the stratosphere.” I reach out like I’m going to hit him, then slide the flower in his boutonniere over by an inch. “Ye’ll be back here, breaking yer back and trying to sell handguns while I’m on my yacht in the Black Sea, counting my money.”
Constantine smiles grimly. “You have made so many fucking enemies, Hades. You’ve double crossed and wronged more people than I can count. I have a feeling that you and your idiotic brothers are living the last of your miserable days on this planet.”
Ares pulls his gun out, pointing it straight at Constantine. Constantine is just as quick, poking at my gut with his own weapon.
Ares looks like a man willing to burn the entire world to ash. “Go ahead.” He shows his teeth as he talks. “I fucking dare ye, ye dafteejit. Seriously, I need to work out all this aggression I’ve been feeling lately.”
Trust my brother to taunt the man with a gun on me just now. I step back slowly, pushing my cheek with my tongue. “That’s not why we came, Ares. We were just here to tell Constantine in person to not fucking mess with our business. Right?”
The corners of Constantine's mouth curl up. “Your message was received. But unless you want to turn my favorite bar into the site of your murder, I suggest that you and your brothers get the fuck out of here.”
I smirk. “That would be a lot fucking scarier if ye didn’t have that wee tremor in yer hand, eh?”
His nostrils flare and the tiniest shudder does go racing through the left side of his body. “I’m going to bury you.”
“Not if I kill ye first.” Smacking my lips, I give him a contemptuous glare.
I back up another pace, then spin on my heel. Feeling like I’ve made sure the message was heard, I stalk out of the bar and into the dying brilliance of the New Orleans sunset. I just keep walking as if I have not a care in the world.
It’s a couple of minutes before my brothers trot up behind me, breathing hard.
“That fuckingbawpot!” Ares calls. “He’s stupid and mad in equal measure.”
I look back at him and he has a grimace contorting his face. Checking my watch, I shrug.
“Constantine took the threat just about as well as I expected.” I tap my expensive timepiece. “Let’s meet with our man so we can get the fuck out of this godforsaken hell scape.”
“That’s for damned sure,” Eros mutters.
We hop in the car for the twenty or so blocks through a mostly residential part of New Orleans. I stare out the window, deep in thought.
Outside, the poverty-to-wealth ratio of the neighborhoods we drive through vacillates wildly. Sometimes it fluctuates block to block, swinging from affluent and well maintained to broken down and neglected.
New Orleans is a wild city.
